Okama Kenpo
by Nehszriah
Summary: It's a Mr. 2 narrative! What he remembers from before Baroque Works and how a certain fight in Alabasta set things in perspective.


The following one-shot happened originally as a contest-challenge, but since I missed the deadline, it sat on my computer for a few months before I actually got around to ending it in a manner I saw fit. I do not own _One Piece_. Also, Bon Clay gets no love. Hell, even I've mocked him, despite being my favorite Alabasta-arc villain. Although it is awkward, he is highly fun to think about. So, here's to the best swan-lovin' thing this side of the Red Line! ...and by the way, I'm not sure there's a real plot that survives to the end. Please tell me if you think it's okay or not. I like feedback.

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Okama Kenpo

It was an interesting day, the one in which he walked into my life. I knew from the moment I first laid eyes on him that he was going to change everything about me forever.

Now, I know what you all are thinking. I know that I acted like the first time I had seen him was at Rain Dinner with the other top agents present. That was an act. It was only the second time I had seen him in person.

I remember that day well. It had been raining on the summer island I had been staying at for at least a month. Just rain. No thunder, no lighting, just barely any wind. All it did was rain in various amounts. Everything was soaked to the core and just when we found that the rain was lightening up to just a drizzled mist, the downpour would come again. Everyone on the island had been miserable. It apparently was a yearly thing though, for many went about business as usual. Three months out of the year was just straight rain. It was supposed to be normal.

Yet on that day, the sun shone.

No one knew how it happened, but the rain stopped about a month and a half before schedule. I was still a man then. A very uncomfortable man. Some thought it was good enough for me to be a master at my fighting style, using kicks and graceful bounds and that I should just leave things at that. All I had done was fight with modified ballet. The dance was my passion and being an outsider on the island to boot, no one took to praise me for my elegant ways. I had quickly become a feared man on the island for my temper and willingness to start a fight. "_Bon Clay the Swan Man and his Dance of Death_". I hated it.

That was why I drowned my sorrows on a regular basis at the one tavern in which the owner that was not afraid to talk to me. He would call me a poofter straightforward and give me "sissy's drinks" and make sure that I got home alright so I would bring my business in the next day. He could have been considered my only friend at the time, which was not considered an accomplishment. Besides, he made one hell of a Long Island iced tea.

I do believe that on that particular night, I was on my third round of the imitation tea when he walked in. His face was in bandages, but I still could recognize him for who me was. The face on all the posters. A Shichibukai. One of the government's pets. A cocoa-skinned man was at his right and a woman dressed in violet and faux pas cow-print at his left. Das Bones and Nico Robin...both of whom had been wanted criminals for years. When they walked up to me as a unit, I knew I was in trouble.

"Jean-Claude le Lune?" the bandaged man asked. No use. I had to answer him if he knew my real name.

"Oui?" I replied, blinking heavily and spinning around on the barstool to face him. That was a mistake, for I nearly fell off due to my drinking. A hand sprouted from the bar and kept me from falling off.

"I have a proposition for you," said the Shichibukai. "Give us your services and in return, we will give you some place where you belong."

"I belong right here," I said, giving a flourished nod.

"Are you satisfied living here?" Nico Robin asked. She looked around disapprovingly. "You could have so much more. Money, a clean place to live, respect..."

"I have respect!" I shouted, standing up suddenly. I swooned backwards and my head felt like it was about to explode from the alcohol in my system. Unwillingly, I blacked out about everything else after that. I woke up the next morning on a ship with Das Bones and Nico Robin, but no government pet. After a while, they wanted to be called "Mr. 1" and "Miss All Sunday", which I did not mind doing at all. They called me "Mr. 2" and allowed me to be me. I found where the woman had hid her clothes and I began dressing in them. Once we reached a new island, I knew I needed to be an okama. As I sobered up and went through "the process", they supported me... something I had never experienced before. They said it was necessary for the plans of "Baroque Works" for me to stay with them and make sure I made the transition with confidence. I became "Mr. 2 Bon Clay" and then things began to become exciting.

We found a demented sadist who murdered an entire island in the North Blue by turning them into candles. He became a member of our troupe along with his brat artist of a niece, for she was his natural accomplice.

That plump old hag and her brain-dead companion nearly killed us before we invited her to join up. When I found out she hated tako-pa, I began to relish in it.

I never really did like the self-absorbent ones. Booger Boy and his mega-ton girlfriend always seemed to be a little too much.

Through our many differences, we became a team. I knew Mr. 1 had a female equal somewhere, but I never bothered to ask why she never came around. I was my own equal, male and female. Mr. 3 and Miss Goldenweek quickly became the group screw-ups, near botching every assignment they were given, getting by on the skins of their teeth. Mr. 4 and Miss Merry Christmas became more and more annoying to be around with each passing year, which served to accelerate my tako-pa intake. Mr. 5 and Miss Valentine... well, I am sort of glad that they were shut down at Whiskey Peak. Like I said, I never did like them after all.

Six or so years passed, our little group grew to a giant corporation and I finally saw our "Mr. 0" once again, a scar where those bandages had been. Mr. 1 and I had already planned on acting stupid, not letting on that we knew we were working for a pirate. Zero-chan was probably expecting it. We were his best agents. He always knew to be prepared for the top act. Never in my life, did I think I would find nakama like the six sitting at that table with me.

That blond chef and his crew proved me wrong.

It's sort of funny, you know? His words and actions struck a chord in my heart, something that rarely happens, no matter which gender I am. He held out his hand and said that I put up a good fight. It was almost as if I were five years old and just got my ass beat for the first time.

He had no real reason to be there. He could have even killed me and not have thought anything of it. He was courteous to me though. He respected me, not because I was his superior, but because I fought well and that was all that mattered.

Later that day, the sovereignty of Alabasta was reinstated. The blond chef was standing right alongside the other victors, by his friends. He had fought for the friends that he so deeply cherished and no other reason. He could have said that he fought for the rightful rulers of the kingdom, but Wednesday-chan is his friend. They all stayed together. It hurt to see them all so happy together, not because I hated them, but because I was jealous. The people who I had believed were my nakama all scattered to lick their wounds. Maybe it was the fact that we were in defeat that those I had worked with ran without searching for one another. No honor for pirates after all.

That's why later, I helped out that straw hatted kid, the one who the blond chef belonged to. Something about those pirates made them seem different. I think they taught me a lot about who I am. I defend those who I care about. Later, after a narrow escape, I assisted my former comrades in rescuing Mega-Ton from the Marines. Principle of the matter, really. You never know when alliances such as that would come in handy.

Now I sit in this dank jail cell, accompanied by Zero-chan, Bones-chan and 3-chan. We barely talk. Actually, we don't need to. All of the other upper-level agents had a short visit to the prison and related the my tale of bravery to Zero-chan and Bones-chan. They knew. The fact I am not being glared at is proof enough I am accepted. Wanted. They see me as one of their own. The comradery in the cell is refreshing. I know now where I belong, who are my true nakama, what okama kenpo is truly about.

_The way where the only thing that matters, are the people in your life. They can change you for the better or worse, but sticking with them is a stronger act than anything else in the world._


End file.
